Chapter 4 – Braelyn
brAELYN
“Are you asking or offering?” I question, blinking at my friend, unsure what this odd bubbling feeling his words spurred in my stomach is all about.
He stares at me, and while I’m blinking, he’s not at all. “Both,” he says after a pause.
“You’re serious?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“I can’t go with you.”
He tilts his head and studies me. “Why not?”
“I picked out that place for my honeymoon with Adam. His imprint will be all over it. Like a freaking werewolf from Twilight.”
He’s confused, but at this point in our friendship, he knows better than to question my weirdness.
“It’s a different resort than the one you picked on a different side of the country.”
“Still Mexico.”
“Braelyn, you can’t be serious. That’s like saying I planned a trip to California and ended up in Boston, but it’s still the US.”
“Well, it is.”
He sighs. “I have to be in Vegas next week for the opening of Decision and then in Mexico for at least a week after that. I’ll be in Vegas on my birthday and yours while I’m in Mexico.”
“What will you do when you run out of boxing-themed titles for your restaurants?”
“Stop opening new restaurants. Braelyn, focus here. What if we went to Vegas, you attended the opening with me, and after we go on to Mexico? I work and get the restaurant where I want it to be while you relax in the sun.”
Our birthdays are a week apart, except I’m very much a Pisces and he’s very much an Aries.
If you know anything about astrology, you’re aware of the massive difference between us.
I’m the dreamer. The emotional one. Always forming strong connections.
Roman is all Aries. Determined and intense and action-oriented.
Pretty obvious if you know him. I get what he’s trying to do, and I adore him for it, but still…
“That makes no sense. Your resort is in Cancun. Vegas is in the opposite direction.”
“Kid, I adore you, but you have the world’s worst sense of direction. How about you leave the travel and planning to me? Just don’t say no. Be open to the idea. When was the last time you had a real vacation? Or the last time I did, for that matter?”
“You’ll be working in both places.”
“Yes, but if you’re there with me, it’ll force me to take breaks and relax more than I otherwise would.”
He has a point. It’s a serious one too. I haven’t had a vacation since I was in college and flew out to Rome to see him over spring break.
No, wait, it was Paris the following year.
But that was it. After that, our schedules never really aligned for me to visit him, and he came home to Boston often enough that I still got to see him.
As for his last vacation… I’m not sure Roman Fritz has had a vacation since Nash died.
They were on vacation at their grandparents’ Martha’s Vineyard estate when it happened.
“You’re serious?” I question, thinking this through. So very tempted by the prospect of turning something awful into something… fun. And doing it with Roman, who is one of my favorite people in the world. Maybe my favorite now that Adam shit the bed.
“Absolutely. In fact, it’s genius. Can you get the time?”
“My mother is the head RN, and when I tell her about Adam, I’m sure she’ll adjust the schedule.”
A strange sort of gorgeous evil smile curls up his lips.
Roman Fritz is scary beautiful. The sort that puts male models and movie stars to shame because his look is effortless and his fucks to give about it are zero.
The man literally has a bandaged-up cut under his eye and a fat bottom lip, and he’s still hot as fuck.
I digress.
“Stop smiling at me like that.”
He chuckles and takes a bite of his food before he washes it down with his wine. “Eat up, kid, and leave the details to me. But starting next week, plan to be away for the next two weeks.”
“Two weeks?! I’m not sure I can be gone for that long.”
“Fine. Ten days minimum but ask for two weeks. I’ve got you. You’re living here for a while anyway. You’ll be able to save the money you think you’re losing with everything, and you won’t have to pay any rent.”
I scowl. “I hate how well you know me.”
“Better than anyone. But with that, you can’t get all huffy about how much money I spend on this or about where we stay. It’s a business expense for me.”
“Fine,” I concede because really I’m not putting up much of a fight. I think I need to get away, and this is the perfect excuse and way to do it. “I’ll talk to my mom about the time off. And any expenses that aren’t business-related, I want to pay for.”
He doesn’t reply to that, and I know it’ll be a fight between us, but whatever.
This sounds way better than hanging out here and dealing with this aftermath. I still have a wedding to cancel, and considering people are likely RSVPing right now, it’s going to be ugly.
“Your fiancé showed up at my door,” Skylar says through a yawn. “Is it what I think?”
I roll my eyes at myself. Of course he didn’t come to Roman’s.
Fucking coward. He didn’t come to my parents’ place either.
I spoke to them for over an hour after dinner about everything.
I feel terrible about the money my parents are losing with this because deposits are nonrefundable.
My dad won the lottery years before I was born and he’s a doctor and my mom’s a nurse.
They’re not poor, but we’re not even in the same stratosphere as the Fritzes, or even the Monroes—which is what Hayes is—and the Reyeses—which is what Quinn and Crew are.
Their dads were part of a very successful band called Central Square years and years ago.
I’m simply Braelyn from the block who ended up besties with a crowd of billionaires. Even Adam comes from crazy money, and his family had me sign a prenup bigger than Texas. Our condo was his, which officially makes me homeless and mooching off my best friend.
My dad told me he didn’t care about the money. He just wants me to be happy and with the right man. A man who won’t take me for granted. A man who will be devoted and love me endlessly. Sigh.
“Yep,” I answer, lying in the giant bed in the whitest bedroom on the planet, staring out across the inky water toward the Boston skyline beyond. “I caught him fucking Corporate Barbie in our bed.”
Skylar whistles through her teeth, only to yawn again.
It brings an inadvertent smile to my lips. “Tired, cupcake?”
“Dude, the first trimester of pregnancy can go fuck itself. Anyway, I slammed the door in his face and called you.”
“Thanks for that. He’s been blowing up my phone every five minutes or so. I’m debating blocking him, but I have to get my things from the apartment first. He can keep my Egyptian cotton sheets, though.”
“That asshole. What a fucking asshole!” she yells, indignant on my behalf, and I love her for it. “I’m so sorry, Brae. I wish I had kicked him in the nuts before I shut the door on him. Are you okay or is that a dumb question?”
I release a heavy, silent breath. “Dumb question, but Roman did make me pecan bars and ice cream, so I’m not as bad as I could be. Ask me again next week and every week after until I eventually say yes.”
“You will, you know. Say yes one day, that is. If I can be okay after Josh, you can be okay after Adam because we’re fierce bitches like that.”
I shift onto my side, propping myself up with my elbow. “Amen and hallelujah. I’m just not feeling all that fierce yet, but you keep preaching because it’s good for both of us to hear.”
“I’m happy now, and I’m positive you will be again with or without a guy. Should I burn your wedding invitation?”
“Go for it—” My phone beeps with an incoming call, and I laugh. “He must have gone to Quinn’s too. Hold on, I’ll merge her in.” I don’t wait for Skylar to reply as I click over to answer, except Quinn starts talking before I can.
“What the hell is happening? I came home from the hospital to find Adam at my doorstep looking like a broken-down poodle.”
I cough at the description. What a loser. “Yeah. He cheated, and I walked in on it. Hold on, I’m going to merge you in with Sky.”
I hit the button on my screen, and then we’re all there together. “Did you slam the door in his face too?” I ask Quinn.
“No,” she says. “He was outside my door. But I hip-checked him out of the way and told him if he’s searching for you here, he did something very wrong, and even if I knew where you were, I wouldn’t tell him.”
“He’s so dumb,” Skylar states. “Why would he come to our places when he knows where you are?”
“Because you know he wasn’t going to come here,” I tell them. “He’s too chickenshit and wants to protect his pretty-boy face from Roman’s fist.” I exhale a weary breath and climb off the bed to sit in the chair by the window. I’m restless as all hell.
“I’m glad Roman is on your side with this,” Sky expresses. “I’d hate to have to kick my cousin’s ass.”
“He’d lose a kidney if he weren’t, but yeah, me too,” I agree.
My voice drops as my tears threaten again.
“How do I make sense of this? We were together for three years. Best friends for thirteen. We lost Nash together. We’ve been through thick and thin.
We were planning a life together. I just can’t wrap my head around it.
The betrayal I feel is absolutely suffocating. ”
“I’m not sure you can make sense of this,” Quinn says.
“And I think your feelings are completely valid and spot on. I’m in shock too.
We all thought you were the endgame couple.
The relationship goals. Sometimes people aren’t who you thought they were, and we don’t know until fate steps in to show us because they’ve been so good at hiding it. ”
“I guess. I just keep thinking that if I hadn’t caught that train, I would have missed it. I would have gotten home twenty minutes later and never have known.”
“But you do know, and now you can start your life over again,” Skylar states emphatically. “You didn’t marry him. Think of the mess that would have brought.”